Clinical
by Dusty Secrets
Summary: After a failed suicide attempt, a depressed Selina Kyle is admitted to the substandard Arkham Asylum. While there, she goes through an array of therapists who just don't seem to be suiting her needs. After a while, the austerely natured Director Joan Leland resorts to bringing in a certain crystalline-eyed inmate from Blackgate to 'counsel' the tortured woman. Post DK. OOC CW
1. Ch 1: This is it

_**A/N:** This story circles around a clinically depressed Selina Kyle (Catwoman) who is admitted to the Arkham Asylum after her latest unsuccessful suicide attempt. After multiple doctors fail to alleviate her tortured mind (as well as enduring their own torture from her complicated behavior and violent tendencies) and their provided therapy sessions do nothing ease her frantic state, they reluctantly call in the cynical ex-Head Doctor of the Asylum in a desperate attempt to fix the mess that is Selina Kyle._

_A overall dramatic fic with elements of dark comedy and sensuality. Centers around Selina in particular but includes factors involving other characters as well. *Eventual Jonathan Crane. _

_This Selina Kyle is completely Out of Character, and is not based off of Anne Hathaway's Catwoman. She is petite with a light cocoa-skin color (mulatto) and brunette, curly hair, based off of a younger Mariah Carey, referring to the cover for the story. Personality is also different from Anne's portrayal._

_*I do not own the story's photo icon._

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of its characters or settings. All rights to the owners (DC comics, Nolan, Warner Bros., etc.)** _

_*Rated M for sexual content, violence and mature language*_

* * *

_ ~ Sometimes, the only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy. ~ Girl, Interrupted_

_..._

**Chapter 1: This is it**

The tall 40 oz. bottle of now empty chianti hit the wall with great force, then shattering down to the floor in a dispersed pile of broken shards. She'd just chugged down her third bottle of the night. Intoxication can ease a broken heart, can't it? That's what she believed. All she wanted was to be _happy_.

Muffled sobs sounded throughout the small apartment that was located in the cursed town of the Narrows. There, on her small, beaten, used and springy couch, she laid broken and abused. A good buzz wasn't enough to release her of these overwhelming feelings. Frankly, the pack of cigarettes that she had just gone through in not too many hours hadn't granted her anything pleasant either.

The TV was on and static consumed from the movie's cessation. She'd just watched _The Notebook_ for the third time in a row that night. She scoffed inwardly to herself upon her own messy love life. Damn, was it the memoir...

She had spent days upon days lusting over her ex, Bruce Wayne, whom she had last been with nearly four years earlier. Her reckless ways and miscreant tendencies had drawn him away, and he had broken her heart. Since him, she couldn't find it in herself to find someone else. She just couldn't move on. There was something about this man that she just adored far too much to pay no heed to. Even though she hadn't dated him any longer than three months, she still managed to fall head over heels for the Batman. She was just twenty-two when she met him. She had just moved to Gotham after her best friend, Pamela, had died by accidental drug overdose. She was taking on a double role. She, perhaps experimentally, wanted to waver between the 'good side' and the 'bad'. Bruce, of course, couldn't condone to this. The problem was, she couldn't limit herself to just playing for the saints. At heart, she was no hero. Bruce was. As much as this burned a hole of sorrow within her, she knew that he was just too far out of her alley. Yet, she also knew she'd always love him, even if he didn't feel the same way in return.

She felt so lost. She was no longer the vivacious woman with plenty of ambition. It was like a part of her had died, a part of her that gave a damn about her sake. Selina just couldn't find it in her to give a hoot about much of anything anymore.

She scoffed at how literal that consideration is. She hadn't even showered in nearly four days, and hadn't eaten a thing besides half a sleeve of saltines in the past three days. Her stomach was caving in and begging for nourishment, but she continued to blow it off, letting her body waste away. She didn't care anymore.

She was falling apart. She had no one to love, and no one loved her. She was alone, absolutely barricaded in solitude. She longed for a friend, just a companion. Someone to laugh with, vent to, shop with, watch movies, hang out, anything, really. Selina was deliberately keeping within the barriers of her cluttered and run-down apartment just to avoid any of that. She knew that no one would have her, and she just couldn't stand the thought of anyone breaking her heart any more than it already was.

Then to add on to her tormented state, her grouchy, old landlord, Mr. Platoke, was at her door again to collect her dues.

"FUCK OFF!" she hollered at the door, while uselessly chucking her dirty panties at the door, as if that made for decent retaliation.

He debated, of course. He needed his fuckin' money, and he needed it _now_. "Open up! You're nearly two months overdue! If you're not out by mornin', I'm callin' the authorities!"

_'Motherfucker!_' she silently retorted.

"Go ahead, asshole!" she challenged. Loud stomping followed, then silence.

She couldn't take it any longer. That was it. She was in so much pain. She had nothing to live for. She had nothing to lose. No family left, no man, no love, no money, no bestie...

Maybe this was the only solution.

Selina weakly got to her aching feet and went into her very cluttered kitchen. After digging through a big pile of dishes and dirty clothes she found a small blade in her dish rack. This would do.

She limped into her bathroom, bile rising in her throat and hot tears pouring down her cheek. She knelt down by her tub and rested her forearm on the ledge. She whimpered as she turned the bathwater on. She didn't want to leave a mess for when they, whoever they were, would find her.

She sighed and yearned to accept her upcoming fate. She closed her sore eyes tightly. '_Just fuckin' do it. Get it the hell over with!' _she scolded to herself.

With another minute of heavy bawling and tortuous mental scrutiny, she had found herself dragging the incisive tool across her right wrist. She didn't realize it, but she screamed out agonizingly just after she had left her mark.

Blood began to pour out with ridiculous velocity. God, this was a lot of blood. She squealed and prayed for it to end soon. She thought of her mother who had passed away nearly eight years earlier. She loved her mother like nothing else.

"I'M COMING, MAMA!" she found herself holler, her body growing weaker and weaker by the second, blood loss having really taking a toll on her already-poor health.

_'Yes,' _she thought, cringing intensely while hot tears ran like a waterfall down her supple cheeks. '_I'll be dead in minutes...'_

Yes, she would have been, if she hadn't screamed. Help was on the way.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for checking this out. A short intro, I know, but the following chapters will be far lengthier. I've had this idea for a while so I decided to get in down in ink. Review to let me know what you think :)

-DS


	2. Ch 2: Not like this

**Chapter 2: Not Like This**

There was so much blood, and all from one little slit across her right wrist. She was enervating significantly with every ounce that poured out, down into the drain. All she could think about was her mom. Would she even get to see her? She had done so wrongly in this life that facing Saint Peter and the Gates of Heaven just didn't seem to fit her circumstances. She began to panic at the thought of going to hell. She'd been through enough torment in her life. An eternity of scorching in flames was not what she had in mind for relief.

She closed her eyes and feigned for an end to come. Why was it taking so damn long? Perhaps it'd be quicker if she cut her other wrist as well. More blood loss, and at a quicker pace, she figured. Though, just as she was about to inflict more self harm to herself she heard her door get thrown open, then people were parading inside. Then she heard voices.

No.

No way. Could this really be? She began to freak out when two men marched in and grabbed her. The next thing she knew she was being lifted up and carried out of the bathroom, her wrists being pressurized with thick clothes to stop the bleeding. Selina was still coherent enough to retaliate, but only slightly.

"NO! Goddammit, NO! Let go of me! I don't want any help! Fuck! Come on, please! I _want_ to die! It's none of your damn concern! NO!"

They ignored her pleas and continued carrying her out of her apartment. She could hear people speaking around her, the only voice she could recognize was her landlord's. He was speaking badly of her, of course.

"Shoulda' known she would resort tuh this! Bitch wasn't even botherin' to pay her rent anymore! All I heard was a scream, officer. I figured that either someone had broken in or she was doin' sumtin drastic, like this!"

Selina was far too weak both physically and in spirit to put up an effective fight. She had no choice but to allow them to load her into the ambulance and off to the ER. Once she was strapped into the bed inside the truck, she heard the doors slam shut. She decided to keep her eyes closed. She felt better that way anyways. She heard someone sit next to her and grab her hand.

"We're going to help you, Miss Kyle. You'll be alright," she heard a man speak. '_Yeah right' _she thought. She was far from alright. A world away from it. She was damaged, hurt and lost. She didn't even want to think about carrying on. Not like this.

She kept silent. She had nothing to say. She had been _this close_ to death, and these dutiful men took that away from her. She felt that she had no purpose left. No reason to carry on with life, especially in as miserable a state as this. She was disgusted with who she was. She hated herself. She wanted away. There was nothing left for her, really. Death seemed only rational.

After she felt the vehicle stop, she found the courage to speak. "Where are we?" Her hand was being held by the man next to her so gently. She actually felt comforted by his presence.

"The Hartford General. We need to get you to the ER. You've lost a considerate amount of blood." His voice was calm yet a tad on edge. Maybe Selina wouldn't make it after all. She was wheeled out of the ambulance and into the hospital. Things just seemed to be getting increasingly hazy for her. She could hardly decipher what the doctor's were saying. She could hear one of the M.D's ask for her name and age. Her heart sped up upon hearing that she may need a transfusion. NO! That would _save_ her. She didn't want to be saved. Didn't they understand? She wanted to meet Death and go _wherever_ with him! Anything but going on in this screwy life, was her reckoning

Upon news that she might be pulling through this, she decided, '_fuck it'_, and she peeled her eyes open. Her vision was blurry and voices around her were somewhat distorted. All she could make out was, "We'll need her blood type, and we'll need to run through the standard test as well... Get her to the North Section, asap."

_'Oh great...' _Even in this hazardous state she couldn't hold down a sigh of defeat. Once she was wheeled into an actual room she was bombarded with questions.

_"How long ago did you do this?"_

_"Are you still with us?"_

_"Can you understand me?"_

_"How many fingers do you see?"_

_"Do you feel nauseous or dizzy?"_

She felt no need to speak. The more they were oblivious to, the less they could do, she presumed. And if they couldn't do anything, then she'd perish, right?

She was lifted into a bed and leant upright. Her head crashed back into the soft and plump pillow behind her. She felt a sharp poke go into her arm. _Morphine? Vicodin?_ She didn't know what they gave her, but she felt more relaxed with whatever it was. Then the doctor stretched her right arm out and wrapped a band around her upper arm, followed by a dab of rubbing alcohol then- '_OW!'_ They drew her blood, though that was really the _last_ thing she needed.

She turned her head the other way and gazed out the window. It was nightfall. A large full moon glistened up in the sky. She had always loved the night over day. She fit in beautifully with the darkness. The sunlight reflected the truth in people a bit too much, as she found logical. She preferred having her shady little secrets and keeping them too.

She drifted into sleep after a few minutes. She was just too fatigued to remain conscious. Who cares if it worried the doctors? She didn't. They could do what they wanted with her.

* * *

She heard a light beeping sound near her. She groaned to herself and moved around in her bed. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. It was dimly lit. She could see clearly now, and she had felt better physically, though her mind still ached of negativity and pessimism. She felt her face burn in vehemence upon realizing what had happened. They had saved her life. She was supposed to be _dead_. _'Damn these healthcare laws and their petty promises to the public!'_ She hated it. All of it.

She saw her clothes rest on a black chair by the door. She looked down. She had been wearing a fresh hospital gown. She growled at the recognition of her bra having been off of her. The perverts! She slumped back into the bed and sighed. What now? They certainly wouldn't let her go back to her apartment, or any one at that. She was in big trouble, she knew this.

She then shrugged. _'__Ah, maybe they'll just throw me into rehab for a while then I'll be off on my own again_', she thought, though that did seem too easy. But it wasn't like they'd throw her in jail, right? She hadn't hurt anyone but herself.

She shut her eyes for a moment then reopened them when she heard the door open. In walked another doctor. She rolled her eyes, already pretty much aware of what was coming.

"Feeling better, Selina?" asked the female doc who came by her side. Better? That was hard to feel those days.

"Define _better_, eh-" Selina glanced at her tag. "Doctor Connolly."

She went through and checked her vitals and her I.V. then warmly smiled down at her. "We gave you a blood transfusion, though you actually didn't need too much of it. Type AB negative... the rarest."

Selina scoffed. Yup, she was unique, wasn't she? Nothing normal about her. The doctor held one of her bandaged wrists and rubbed it soothingly, as if trying to appear friendly, like she was trying to help her feel better. This bullshit was unbearable.

"Do you have any family members we can contact? A mother? Father? Sibling?"

"Nope."

"Are you alone?"

She hated that word, but it was the case for her. "For the most part, yes."

"I understand that you're in pain, Miss Kyle. We're here to help."

"I don't want any help! I'm depressed, and I want to die! Don't you nimrods get that?!"

"Yes, you've made that quite obvious with your self-harm, Selina. We can help you lead a better life. We can get you on the right pills and therapy you need in order to regain that happiness you've lost."

"Oh, what? Some rehab? Nice, that'll put me back in shape," Selina deadpanned, while her doctor took things a little more seriously. She sighed and made eye contact with her troubled patient. Her mien went from soft and sweet to stern.

"Miss Kyle, we've noticed that you have done this before, regarding your other more worn marks and scars on your wrists. It's come to our attention that you've been clinically depressed for some time now."

"You don't say..."

"Due to the circumstances, we find that it may be best for you to stay in... an _institution_, for awhile. In your case, it is too necessary."

"You're gonna lock me up in a _nuthouse_?!" Selina grew horrified at that news. She wasn't crazy! She was just sad, very _very_ sad!

"Don't look at it that way. We will help you. You'll be safe and you'll get to converse with other people with your condition. You'll benefit from this experience-"

"NO! I wont let you take me there! You can't force me!"

"We have no choice, Miss Kyle. You're suicidal." She stood and gave her a look of sympathy. "We're sorry."

Selina felt her heart sink even further, if that was even possible. She was getting locked up in the loony bin? As if she wasn't depressed enough! She felt sick when she imagined what would happen to her in there.

"You will be transported to the Arkham Asylum after you regain some of your strength. Think of this as your road to recovery, Selina."

She patted her shoulder with all due respect, then departed the room. Selina then took the opportunity to inspect the room for _anything_ she could use to finish herself off. Though she spotted nothing incisive, she contemplated thrashing her head against either the wall or the metal barring of her bed. She then shrugged that off figuring the docs would be back in a jiffy, upon the viewing of her _suddenly_ skyrocketed heart monitor. She wouldn't have the chance to induce_ too_ much head trauma.

She then looked down at her I.V. _'Hmm, if I could just yank it out of my wrist and **stab** it back in its place, then-'_

The door swung back open and in came the familiar female doctor. She had a big stack of papers in hand and a laptop on a wheeled table. Selina anticipated what was coming up.

"Alright, we need to get down your personal information to register you in. I believe that we have most of what we need of you already, but let's just make sure..." Selina rolled her eyes and decided to just get this fruitless pursuit over with. She planned on making an escape later that night anyway.

"Your name is Selina Dawne Kyle, correct?"

"Yes."

"Date of birth is April 11th, 1987?"

"Uh huh."

"Eye color: brown?"

"Yeah."

"Height: 5'3, Weight: 117...well, we can redo those later on, since those records were taken over two years ago when you were admitted to the Dilworth hospital in Los Angeles."

Selina sighed and leaned back into her now more flat pillow. How long was this going to take? She had business to attend to. _Unfinished business_.

"Do you see a physician, Miss Kyle?"

"No."

"Do you have an insurance plan?" She asked that with a hint of dissatisfaction.

"What do you think?"

Connolly sighed. "Well, we're all set for now. Just sit tight and we can make the transfer tomorrow if you're feeling well enough. Goodnight, Selina." She smiled and made her way back outside. Then Selina smiled. Time to make a break. She was getting the hell out of here.

* * *

The digital clock on the wall showed it to be 2:38 a.m. Her room was dim and she was still hooked up to an I.V. Death and suicide weren't swamping her troubled mind so much now. Escape from this trap, was.

She was not going to be forced into a nuthouse. Absolutely not. She was sad, but not crazy. And Arkham? Why, their funding was so low that she'd be shocked if their toilets flushed completely. Even if they did, she still wasn't going there.

_'Hell no_,' she thought. '_I'm leaving right now, while I have the chance_...'

She'd have to be quick. Once that I.V. of hers was no longer injected, the doctors were bound to rush right back into her room and catch her before she got a chance at escape.

She leaned upright and threw her petite and bare legs over the edge of her small hospital bed. Her clothes were over on the chair about six or so feet away from where she sat. She had to test the length of her I.V.'s cord to make sure that it could stretch out to where Selina needed to obtain her clothing. She knew that she had to get dressed before she yanked the needle out so that the alarm wouldn't be set off until she was already out of the room. She was at the end of her bed reaching for the chair's arm - _almost - _BAM! She got ahold of it and dragged it more into her proximity. Now she'd just have to dress and exit the room warily.

She got her pants on with almost no struggle but her tank wouldn't properly fit over her considering the I.V. that was in the way. She figured she could just pull the shirt on after pulling the needle. She could be fairly swift, after all. Once she had her flats on she quickly jerked the intravenous out of her fore wrist and let it drop onto the sheets. A trickle of blood escaped her small mark proceeding the fierce yank of the needle, and the monitor began to beep in response. Selina pulled her shirt on. _Time to jet!_

She sped over to the doorway and glimpsed through her ajar door. The hall was bare minus some doctors she didn't recognize that were way down the long and bright hall. Her eyes stung as she fully removed herself from the room, for she had been surrounded by darkness for at least four hours, more or less.

She took in a deep breath and nonchalantly walked down the hall, hopefully the right way, she mentally pleaded. Chances were that she was in the Mental Health section of the hospital, so she'd just have to try to make her way _out_ of there. Couldn't be too difficult, right?

After having turned a few corners she came across two wide doors that were attached to one another, appearing to lead out of this section, presumably. She took the opportunity anyways and pushed her way through the doors and into the next section of the hospital, whatever that be. There was no time to stop and scheme her actions, not that doing so would have benefitted her any better anyhow. It wasn't like she had ever been in this hospital, let alone know of its routes even adequately.

No matter, she'd have to fend for herself. It wasn't like she could stop and ask one of the docs, receptionist or even passersby. Visiting hours were long over and she was already suspicious looking as it was. She assumed that she was doing fine anyways. How lost could she get? There was a way out of everything, including hospitals.

After having turned a few more corners and gone through more doors she was sure that she was out of the Mental section and somewhere more general. She tried to shrug off any odd looks she'd get from passing doctors as she strolled casually down these halls. '_Just act natural'_, she kept telling herself. It was all she could do until she was out and about.

But then, when she did get out, where would she go from there? Not back to the apartment, of course. Her place had probably been officially evicted at this point anyways. That ass of a landlord detested her guts. She hadn't made a single payment to the old bastard, mostly because she had gotten too depressed to work. He was likely true to his word on calling the cops by dawn if she didn't pack her belongings and beat it. Though, she was far too financially ill to go anywhere. She reckoned that even the Gotham's most run-down hovel wouldn't accept her poor credit.

Well, she had been acquainted well enough with Bruce Wayne in the past, but now things were far too wrecked between them to even consider staying at his place. She had gone against the rules, for her stealing and violent tendencies did not abide with the billionaire vigilante too well, and she was left on her own.

Her old best friend, Pamela, had died a year prior, due to a heroin overdose. So, it looked as if the Cat really was on her own. Where would she even crash once she got out? The alley? She'd be raped in an instant, especially in that part of town. She was in no mood for forced sex with filthy hobos or gangsters anyway. There was the YMCA on Fanner street. She could perhaps start a 'plan' with them, and simply use it to crash there for the night. It looked as if that was the only option at this point. That would do.

She'd just have to travel the 25 to 30 minutes on foot until she got there. It didn't seem like a feat at all, really. She'd put herself in good hands. Yes, she could fend for herself, even if it would ultimately lead to an early grave. That was her goal anyways, right? To die, and die soon. She had nothing and no one left, so what was the point in keeping a broken heart beating?

Now was not a decent time to go over exactly how she'd try to kick the bucket this time. She just had to focus on getting out of the hospital. So far, so good. She had to be nearing the exit at this point. She'd been walking for nearly ten minutes. Probably just several more turns and maybe a few more doors to push before the solace would be in her hands-

"Excuse me, miss, visiting hours ended at 9 o'clock..." a passing nurse stated pointedly. Selina almost panicked.

"Oh, sorry, I was just visiting with my dying mother. I'm on my way out right now," she replied, fighting to keep her cool. The nurse was skeptical of that excuse, however. She walked up closer to Selina, her eyes slightly narrowed and her arms crossed.

"Were you? Critical care is all the way on the other side of the building. What is her name?"

Selina grew nervous. She decided to quickly throw in her late mother's actual name. "Winona Curtis."

The bitch of a nurse kept her over plucked eyebrow raised high. God, she wasn't actually going to check the system for that name, was she?

"What is her illness?" she nearly mocked, but deadpanned more. _What a BITCH_.

Selina sighed lightly to herself and continued to keep herself together for her own sake. "Lung cancer." That was how her mother actually passed anyways. She was just 38. Selina was 18.

Damn, if that brow would've raised any higher it would hit her hairline. "...Fair enough. Now, you're going to have to leave, because family and friends are not allowed to waltz around here after visiting hours. Have a nice night."

Selina sighed in relief. The nuisance had let up. She was off the hook, for now. She smiled in return and turned to head off, but didn't get too far once the nurse's communicator went off. Selina kept on her feet. She faintly heard "Patient Selina Kyle? ... Escaped? ...Hey, I think-" Selina was practically sprinting now.

"HEY! STOP!" yelled the nurse from down the hall. Selina kept on her feet, not looking back once. She was in trouble now, and had to get out pronto. Now the security had likely been alerted to keep at eye out for the petite and multi racial woman in her mid twenties.

She slammed herself into the next door she faced. She turned right guessing that it had to lead somewhere, that place being the outdoors with hope, and plenty of it. The nurse and some other docs were tailing her ass so she couldn't afford to slow down. Running at such a momentum was really a challenge for her, since she was still pretty weak from that night's big incident. This was the last thing she needed, aside from staying put at this hospital. She direly needed to get out of there.

There were now at least four practitioners on her trail, but she wasn't entirely certain, for looking over her shoulder was something that she had refused to do. It may have hindered her chances at escape. They continued to holler after her, pointlessly, for there was no way in hell Selina would be stopping. Mental ward**—**_her ass_!

Her chest heaved and ached as she continued her fierce jog. So close...so close... Then, two tall and muscular security guards stood by the EXIT doors. Selina was rear-ended. She'd have to try and get past them. She closed in on them and gave an almost playful "excuse me!" before her palms met the cool metal of the 'PUSH' door, but only for a second. They had gotten ahold of her small body, and she was restrained from making an escape quite easily. Still, even if Selina Kyle was somewhat of a half-hearted quitter, **Catwoman**, was not.

She kicked and bit and even tried to claw at the men with her long and incisive fingernails**—**with no avail. The physicians had caught up and assisted the two brutes in restraining the small yet ferocious woman. Selina screamed and fought relentlessly until she felt a needle go into her arm. She then slowly grew weaker and began to fall back into the docs' arms with ease.

* * *

She woke hours later in a bed, bound by straps to hold her in her place. Once she was fully conscious and aware of her situation, she fought against the long strips that held her down securely. She squirmed and writhed under the bindings and had not freed herself any. They had her trapped effectively this time.

She growled and let her head fall back down onto the pillow that had been supporting it. _Bastards_. How could they do such a thing as this? _'__This is inhumane! Unjust. Vile. Cruel. What kind of fuckery is this?'_

Suddenly the familiar Dr. Connolly stepped in sporting a not-as-genial mien like she had hours earlier. She was probably a bit frustrated with the bound girl for trying to escape earlier. They had to take higher precautions now, thanks to the antsy little victim of depression.

She stood by her side and frowned down at the now helpless woman. "Miss Kyle... trying to escape like that was, in blatant honesty, quite foolish. We're here to help you, and what I can't understand is why you do not want assistance with your struggle. We are going to do what we can to get you back on the road to recov-"

"Ignorant pricks! I thought I made myself clear when I said that I _wanted_ to die! I don't want to be saved! I have nothing to live for. Living in artificial bliss with a hundred cats until I die of old age is not the way I wanna go!"

"Listen, Miss Ky-"

"No, _you_ listen! I will not let any of you certified morons take me to the crazy house! I'm not a lunatic, dammit! I can make my own decisions. I can live my own life, even if I chose to end it! It's my choice, not yours."

Connolly sighed and removed her glasses to rub her temples. This was a tough one indeed. All bitch and no sweetheart. She wouldn't let this slip. She was a patient in need and she was going to fix her, even if it ultimately led to nothing but months _or years_ of turmoil.

"You are not alone. Thousands of other people out there struggle with clinical depression, Selina. It's both treatable and curable. The Arkham Asylum is not just for mentally disturbed people as you seem to describe, but it houses people with depression as well. All you need is therapy and other people with your condition to communicate with. It's not like you'll be kept in a padded cell or anything like that-"

"I don't care! I'm not going anywhere." She wished she could cross her arms and legs to show her contentment. She was final with her word. Connolly, was not.

"I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter. You'll be transported in the morning after you are registered. Now, try to get some sleep, Selina. You'll be cured soon enough." She then departed the room, leaving the restrained Cat alone.

And miserable.

* * *

_A/N:_ Thank you for reading. Review away :)


	3. Ch 3: The Arkham Asylum

**Chapter 3: The Arkham Asylum**

Selina felt her eyes burn at the harsh light of day freshly shining in through the large and curtain-less windows to her left. She had been gazing out the window mindlessly and contemplatively for the entire long and fretful night. Had she not been strapped down securely to the thin and poorly cushioned mattress she laid on, she'd have given another go at escaping her upcoming nightmare.

The feeble and underweight woman in her mid twenties cringed in discomfort at the shifting she felt in her stomach that had been feigning for nourishment for hours upon hours. She hadn't had a bite to eat since the previous day at what could have been noon. She wasn't entirely certain, nor did she care. Her goal remained the same, regardless of Connolly's assertion that she 'would be cured and would be making an effective recovery'. Selina still felt it necessary to mope perpetually. She was doomed to an unwholesome life, that's all there was to it.

She put up just one more teensy fight against her bindings before the lovely and oh so doting Dr. Connolly waltzed into the room with two larger and buff men at her side. She donned a large (and likely fake) smile on her thirty-something flawless face. Selina rolled her eyes at their presence and continued to ruminate a way out of this.

"Good morning, Miss Kyle. I hope you have rested well," the certified woman chimed, much to the restrained woman's scoffing.

"Yeah, beautifully," she deadpanned in return. The two macho's stalked past the shorter doc and got on either side of the bed in which the bound girl laid. Selina felt both her upper and forearms throb lightly in relief once the straps were loosened. Once her legs were released from their previous confinement, she jolted up and off the mattress with plans of successful solace. Of course the six-foot-something men comprised with thick muscles weren't going to allow that. She was grabbed once her size 6 feet hit the floor. The guards had absolutely no difficulty in preventing her escape by merely holding her in place by her upper arms with their firm grasps. Selina knew she could still retaliate by means of verbal disputation.

"Assholes! Lemme' go! You can't do this to me!"

Connolly stepped in closer and faced the troubled woman. "As I have already informed you, Selina, we have no choice. Our city legislation dictates that self-harm cannot go unnoticed by the Federal-"

"Fuck that! I'm not afraid to kill anyone who stands in my way, dammit! I'll do it! Watch me!" she retorted at all three persons in this confined room. Connolly hastily pulled out her communicator and dispatched for more security to make their way down here. This was going to be more tedious than she anticipated.

"Please cooperate, Miss Kyle! I know this seems unfair, but we are only trying to _help_ you," Connolly spoke in a pensive manner, struggling to advise anything that may bring the ill-minded patient comfort. She knew she hadn't coaxed her even a tad when she received a defiant "fuck you!" in return.

Just when the petite woman had nearly thrown what would've been a painful kick at one of the men's nose, two more guards marched in to help the conflicting female calm down. Relief settled within the Doctor's mind when one of the newly arrived guards had a needle with him. A sedative, it had been, which had also been initially contrary to what Selina's physician had wanted, but this situation was getting too far out of hand. She had to be drugged again.

Tears flowed heavily down the Cat's cheeks as she continued to fight. She slowly began to subdue her wild altercation once the needle was penetrated into her upper arm. She fell back into her pillow and her surroundings faded into a blur. Then nothing.

* * *

Her first sense upon regaining consciousness was the feeling of light shaking. Her bed had been vibrating lightly. She squirmed around a bit before deciding to open her eyes. As she had presumed, she was strapped down.

Her upper right arm ached where she had been injected earlier. It was done so coarsely that she was sure that the perpetrator had struck a vessel. It throbbed and stung like hell. That didn't matter now, though. She knew that her pleas and bitching would hit indifferent ears. She'd heard the stories about your typical nuthouse. She knew she'd be spending the majority of her time either locked up alone in a room in a straight jacket or strapped down securely to her bed, or she'd be splendidly experiencing group therapy and hearing other depressed chicks vent on about why they have their heart's set on being six feet underground.

She felt the urge to vomit at the pondering of any of it. It seemed to be inevitable now, so what was the point in complaining about it? It appeared this was her fate. She had ultimately chosen to do this, of course not deliberately, but with inadvertent intention. Perhaps this was her key to the life that she was meant to live. Goddamn, she was going on a petty twenty-six years of age; she was too young to give up all of that now.

Her stomach flipped in angst and her heart skipped a few beats once her ride had come to a halt. She growled in frustration when the back doors were pulled open to reveal a huge facility dedicated to the inhibition of mentally insane persons. Little did Selina realize that its purpose was for keeping the _criminally_ insane out of society. She was agape at the labeled sign outside of the ambulance: Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. _What the fuck?_

"Hey! I am not _criminally insane_ you dolts! I'm just depressed!" Selina retaliated at the blond man who was wheeling her out of the vehicle.

"We now also treat the clinically depressed, miss. And due to your lack of having insurance or health care, we were unable to admit you to the Gerald Palt Mental Institution, but don't worry, you'll be treated _well enough_ here."

Selina scoffed loudly at that promise. Her 'yeah, right' radar blew off the charts. She briefly considered putting up another brawl with these guys who were reeling her into the large brick building painted a dark and gloomy shade of brown. She found that color to suit her depression quite well.

Once they were in from the chilly late-February weather, they put the brakes on in the lobby and undid her bindings. "Just remain calm, ma'am. We're going to check you in with the receptionist and then you'll be assigned a therapist. They'll figure things out for you from there on."

Selina nodded in response at the older brunet and kept her drowsy eyes glued to the tan tiled floor as they led her to the front desk. Behind the counter was a maybe forty-something blonde with a tidy bun and glasses. She smiled at the approaching guards with their newcomer.

"A new patient, Kyle, right?" she inquired delightfully, her tone having irritated Selina. Selina was far from in the mood to deal with any of this right now, or ever. She just wanted everyone to leave her be to do what she wanted. It was her life, not theirs. And now, because she had to scream out at the top of her lungs at around eleven the previous night, her life was going to be run by orderlies.

"Yes, we have the rest of her paperwork right here," stated the blond man. The preppy attitude and seemingly botoxed cheeks of the receptionist also made the troubled inmate-to-be livid. It wasn't just her, however, for lately, anyone with a wide grin on their face who crossed Selina's path got hated on in spite of pure jealousy. She loathed all buoyancy in this miserable state.

"Okay, I just need to call in one of the nurses so she can update the patient's medical records, then that'll be all."

The guards nodded and kept their grasp on the small woman's arms. Some time later, a young, redheaded nurse came their way with a clipboard. She too didn't look distressed, making Selina's insides churn in envy.

"Alright, Selina, just come over here with me so we can get your height and weight, then we'll get you into a room to go through some other medical information."

The guards carefully released her arms and watched her for a little while to make sure she wouldn't try to escape again. She hadn't yet. She obediently yet sluggishly followed the nurse down the hallway comprised of scales, I.V. carts, and shelves filled with extra towels.

Selina weakly stepped onto the scale that her feet hadn't touched in months. Frankly, she just didn't give much of a damn about her weight anymore. The scale read her weight to be 111. She had lost around six or seven pounds since the last time she was weighed. Her height remained the usual 5'3 just like the last time. She was a fully grown adult anyways, so her physical peak would only be gradually shrinking from there over the years.

The years.

Selina cringed like she been doing periodically since the previous night. Her desires remained the same: she didn't want to live to be an old, depressed and ugly woman with a billion cats. She knew she wouldn't be one of the _Golden Girls_, complacent and enlightened with life at even a ripe age. No, she would be that doleful and cranky old timer who lived in a run-down nursing home, after she hit the age where she was to be considered a senior citizen, after living a good thirty years here at Arkham, of course. She would never be getting out of here until then, she reckoned.

"You're looking healthy, Miss Kyle. A bit underweight, but nothing to worry about yet," the nurse assured, as if Selina would really give a hoot. She shrugged in response and followed her wanna-be doc into a compact and windowless room to the right. She gestured her into the room then told her that a physician would be in shortly. She closed the door and left Selina in solitude.

She scanned the small room thoroughly as to spot anything sharp she could use to commit her current goal, and saw nothing more than two chairs against the wall, a cushioned bed-like seat that patient's used, and a wheeled chair for the doctor to use once inside. Selina's eyes landed on the jar of cotton balls aside the jar of tongue compressors. She grinned deviously to herself.

_'Maybe I can just shove a shitload of cotton down my throat and choke to death, but I'd have to be swift before the goddamn doctor arrives-'_

Her thoughts were cut off by the sudden and abrupt arrival of a female physician. Selina forced herself to snap out of her suicidal trance and drive her attention to the thirty-something brunette lady in a burgundy knee-length dress with a white coat and name tag labeled:_ 'Arkham Inst. Physician Patricia Lambert'_.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Lambert, but feel free to call me Pat." She looked through her folder briefly before continuing. "I see that you are being admitted here under speculation that you have clinical depression regarding a suicide attempt on February 24 of 2013—_last night_, and needs to seek further institutionalized treatment for full recovery before your release."

She glanced up and held Selina's bandaged wrists up for closer viewing. "Was last night's infliction your first?" she inquired carefully, seeming to try to give off a gentle approach over a straight-forward and assertive tone.

"Not exactly…" Selina mumbled, with a hint of embarrassment in her tone. Pretty light blue _Zooey Deschanel_ hues met Selina's hazel.

"When did you start cutting?" She asserted more concisely than her last question. Selina looked down at her thighs that currently donned her own black jeans. She smirked slightly out of nervousness and had felt more awkward than she had in quite a while.

"About four years ago, I think."

She heard her doctor sigh lightly at her confession, then heard a pen click followed by quick jotting of information on paper. Selina feared the 'penalty' she would face now. Her sentence would surely be even longer now after that little secret. She wished she would have sugar-coated her answer with exaggeration by complying with a simple "yes".

"Not to worry, Selina. You'll meet plenty of other women here who have depression, and you're even bound to be cured of this illness-"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before, Patty. Now, y'all can believe whatever the hell ya want, but I know that I'm _not_ going to be feeling any better any time soon." She stopped and exhaled a light yet audible scoff. "You all are wasting your time."

The doctor was a tad dumbfounded by her allegation, but that had most certainly not been the first time she'd heard that old excuse. That's what they all said. They all believed they were incurable, when 90 percent of the time, they really were.

"Denial is not the way to go, Miss Kyle. The first step is acceptance. You need to start thinking positively."

Selina scoffed for the thousandth time that day, and she knew that she wasn't finished 'pssh'ing yet, by the way she was being treated so far. "Kay, if ya say so," she sighed, then stared at the ivory wall to her right, finding that more interesting than this convo.

"We need to address some questions before I send you off to Dr. Frederick's office for counseling. You will also need to put this on." She handed her a folded pair of dark orange pants with a shirt. Selina could feel her face go aflame. She had never felt so insulted by such an expectation.

"You expect me to flaunt this _drab_ around the place? Why can't I just have my own clothes to wear?" She felt the overwhelming urge to chuck her attire across the room to let it collect dust on the carpeted floor.

The doctor frowned slightly and had to think for a moment on how to reply to that blunt statement. "It's standard uniform for patients, Selina. I would allow you to wear your own clothing, had there not been our establishment that indicates otherwise. I'm sorry."

Selina sighed frustratingly. She had not been here for twenty minutes and already she despised the facility with a crisp. The doc seated herself in her spinney chair and crossed one bare leg over the other, bringing her black wedged heel into better view.

"Now, I have some medical questions to go through with you here before I let you go off to Henry's...How is your diet? Do you feel that you do well with what your consume?"

Selina's nearly showing ribs could provide the answer for that, but she decided it best to reply with an overstatement in an attempt to try and leaven these already bad circumstances up. "Yes, I ain't fat, am I?" she declared with a light chuckle at the end. Doc Pat smiled awkwardly in response and scribbled that down.

"Do you or have you ever taken any prescribed drugs or medications?"

"Hmmph, not _prescribed_, but yeah," she again chortled playfully, trying to show the doc that she was suddenly happy and ready to leave. The physician didn't seem to find that answer amusing judging her fake and half-hearted smile.

"Are you or have you ever smoked?"

"Indeed."

"Are you currently?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Another frown played along the doc's lips as she wrote down her comply. "Do you consume alcohol on a regular basis?"

"Is every freakin' night regular, Patty?"

"_Possible alcoholism_," Selina heard the woman before her mumble under her breath while jotting that down. Selina didn't believe that she herself was an alcoholic, for she didn't crave it relentlessly like some actual drunkards she had known, though she did enjoy herself a nice tall bottle of chardonnay here and there.

"Is this your first admission to a mental institution?"

Those words struck Selina painfully, like a freight train out of the blue. Mental institution? That just sounded like such a harsh reference. It made her feel insane, and she **was not** insane.

"...Yes," she grumbled with a hint of anger in her voice. That jotting was also getting on her nerves. How much was she writing down? Just Selina's honest-to-truth answer or was she adding her own little opinions along with it? Did she have the right to do that?

"I think we're through for now, Selina. I'll leave you to get your clothes on. Just leave your old clothes here and I'll take care of it. I'll return in a few minutes-"

She noticed her ill-minded patient eyeballing the jars comprised of cotton and wooden sticks and a nasty premonition crossed her mind. She heard her patient sigh an "_awe_" once she confiscated the jars as to prevent anything foolish she may have thought about doing. She exited the room and closed the door behind her.

Selina gruffly hopped off her seat and gathered the ugly garbs. She would dearly miss the black tank top and dark denims she was sporting currently. She felt even more uneasy at the realization that they'd likely be thrown away.

She stripped down to her bra and panties and gathered the orange sweatpants that looked at least three sizes too big. Upon unfolding them she saw a pair of folded white underwear and a white sports bra fall out and down to the floor.

She picked up the bra and inspected it. She grimaced when she noticed how worn-out and stained it was. She most certainly wouldn't be letting that apparently used garment touch her bare breasts, not to mention it was _also_ too big. The underwear looked clean, but she couldn't be too sure. Sometimes the underwear pile at _Goodwill_ has some appearing pristine panties, but you don't buy them anyways, just because it's unsanitary and gross.

She placed both undergarments into the trash bin by the counter and got into her plain and boring inmate attire. She stared sorrowfully at the little pile of her own clothing that rested on the carpet. She would never flaunt them again.

A curt knock sounded at the door, then in came Patty. She put on a cheap smile and lied "You look nice, Selina." Selina smirked at that pathetic comment and crossed her arms, just willing to move on forward with whatever this lady had in mind for her.

"Follow me. I'm going to have you meet your therapist, Dr. Henry Frederick, then he'll explain your routine from there on."

The two were out of the room and off towards the elevator then onto the third floor where Dr. Frederick's office was located. "He's a good psychiatrist, Selina. He's been helping out many people over the years."

"Not too young then?" Selina asked imposingly, yet out of pure curiosity.

"Mm, he's somewhere in his fifties."

"Ripe, then. Ah well, he handsome?"

The doctor ignored her question and put forth her statement once they were off the elevator. "Come on, this way." Selina heeled after the doc and then stopped once they reached a room at the end of the hallway. The door was labeled: 'Dr. Henry Frederick' and was closed upon their arrival. Pat knocked twice, then the door was swung open and they were greeted by a tall and broad man with a suit, brown-graying hair and oval glasses. He was tan and admittedly attractive for his age, whatever that be. He warmly smiled and held out a hand towards the crossed armed woman outside his door. She timidly met her palm with his and shook twice along with him.

"Selina Kyle? It's nice to meet you. Dr. Frederick, Arkham's primary psychiatrist. Come inside so we can get started." He backed away and allowed his new patient access inside. Before entering, she shot her physician one more look of ennui then silently cherished the time she'd get to spend alone with her older, yet sexy (in a nerdy way) therapist.

The door was closed and Selina was gestured to take a seat at either the clichéd Freudian sofa in the corner or the seat before his desk. She choose the normal chair, just because that would make her feel almost normal over an actual inmate with psychological issues lying in that typical overly-cushioned bench.

"Let's see here...depression...a highly common disorder nowadays...suicide attempt, just….last night? Mmm, alright...believed to have self-harmed in the past...okay, we've got the basics." He looked up from her file and set it down, then retrieved a notebook and pen. Selina knew where this was headed.

"Our purpose here is to discover where your depression may have stemmed from, if not simply from birth. Are you aware that it is merely a slight chemical imbalance in the brain, and can be successfully treated with medications?"

"No...I've always seen it as more of a soul thing, like I'm upset because it's like my natural charisma or something...And I'm sticking to that belief, by the way."

He nodded and began to note every word she had just spoken. This made Selina feel uncomfortable. "So, do you write down every little syllable that escapes my lips?" she asked with evident accusation in her tone.

He looked up from his note sheet and met his wary patient's flustered stare. "I write down what is necessary in order to help you, Miss Kyle."

"Please, just call me Selina. I'm beginning to feel like a damn teacher…"

He nodded understandingly and wrote that down, unnecessarily in Selina's eyes. She sighed and leaned back into her chair. She was tired, starving, bored, upset in general, and aching everywhere. This was the last thing she wanted to partake in right now.

"How long do you think you have shown signs of depression?"

She met her shrink's dark blue gaze. That inquiry was somewhat of a stumper at first, until she really thought back on it. "Probably since my mother's death when I was eighteen. I was just a huge mess after I lost her."

She crossed her arms and stared at the poster of Albert Einstein behind his desk while he wrote that confession down. "I apologize for asking, but how did she pass on?"

Selina felt that familiar lachrymose upon recalling her mother. She had been a chainsmoker throughout the years, going through what was close to two packs a day. That had really taken a toll on her health, proving that to be official once she was just thirty-eight, after being diagnosed with lung cancer, chronic, too. Selina blamed her excessive smoking on her abusive father's destructive ways on both the girls, even lashing out on her mother all her life. It was true that Winona Curtis was indeed a long-sufferer, and that had ultimately rubbed-off on her daughter, who was here now, being 'treated' for her own evident clinical depression.

"Lung cancer." She waited and nervously picked at her long and paint-chipped nails while he wrote that down, though it seemed exceedingly inessential. "Would you say that your mother was depressed?"

Selina couldn't suppress shooting him a nasty scowl after that audible ponder. "What does my mama have anything to do with this? Leave her out, please."

"I only ask because it is common for depression to run in one's family, and it can easily be passed onto the children of the vic-"

"Okay, maybe she was. I dunno. Couldn't blame her if she was...my dad was an asshole."

Oh, did he take interest in that declaration. "Your father, he was abusive?"

"Pfft, oh yeah, a real motherfucker, sir." Selina felt a bit funny after having put it that way, but at least it was the truth. She'd remember how he was for the rest of her life, and it appeared that these people were going to make sure that she would have quite the longevity.

"Mmm hmm...so, you would describe the relationship with your father as-"

"Utmost bullshit."

"...When is the last time you've seen your father?"

She really had to think back on this one. "Probably when I was sixteen. He took off on my mom and me after they got into a big fight. Never returned."

"Ah, and how has this affected you?"

"What?"

"His departure, how have you felt about it over the last nine or so years?"

"Well...great, actually. I hated the old bastard." Selina involuntarily chuckled at the memories she was recalling at this point. "Never loved either of us, the arrogant prick...always hit and beat my mother, hit me too on occasion...I just hope he's dead now. That's all I can say."

Silence settled in between the two for some time. Dr. Frederick took up the opportunity to jot down most of what she said in his notebook. She was upset with herself for having fessed up that much detail. Marcus Kyle was the last man she ever wanted to think about. He made for a terrible father. It baffled Selina that her sweet and beautiful mother had fallen for such a douche as him. She was nineteen and he was twenty-seven when they met, as her mother had told her years earlier. Aside from her mother being white and father half black and half colombian, they had both differed significantly in personality. She was a courteous sweetheart who waited tables at _Denny's_ for years, and he was a factory worker, and an aggressive one at that. He had a temper on him, and he'd refused to get any help for his obvious issues regarding his easily-pissed-off tendencies. They had never married, for he had never proposed. Selina hinted that he truly did never love or even care about Winona or herself, and that fact hurt alone. She never really had a daddy, and she'd lost the one family member she did have at far too young an age.

"I think we should stop there for today, Selina. You've done well. Now, we need to get you better acquainted with our faculty. You have been assigned to Room 242 on the fourth floor. You have a roommate who you will get to meet here real soon, once we get some more paperwork filled out. She will show you around here, give you a tour of the place. Just wait a moment, please."

Her therapist went through her file and began to scribble away God-knew-what, probably Selina's little depressing memoir that she just recanted. She internally grimaced at the thought of what her roomie would be like. Shudders of discontentment ran down her spine upon the possibility of her being schizophrenic or a lesbian with serial-killing potencies. It wasn't like she would be too normal, for this was a mental ward, you know, for the _insane_.

"Ah, there's your aid, Erick, right at the door. He'll lead you to your room." He held his hand out. "Have a wonderful first day, Selina. I'll see you again in a couple days." She hastily shook his hand in return, secretly adoring the firmness of it. She also took a mental note of him having not donned a ring on any of his thick, tan fingers. He may have been single...not that that mattered, though, of course.

She stepped back out into the hall and faced her apparent 'aid', Erick. He was tall, a good 6'2, had long, brown hair that was tied back and dark brown eyes. He gave her a crooked grin upon seeing her, finding the young woman attractive in all likelihood. He looked young himself, maybe around twenty-five or so.

"'Ey, so, I'm your, eh, assistant, Erick. I'm like, supposed to guide you around, ya know, and be like, your bodyguard, ya know? Keep you out of harm's way, that sorta thing."

"Um, okay…" Selina found it somewhat insulting that she was assigned an 'aid', like she was really that incapable of fending for herself. Then again, she was suicidal, so that fact proved worthy of her needing an aid, supposedly.

A brief and awkward pause filled the air between the two, before he smirked and smacked his hips with his palms improvisationally. "Well, then, I can escort you to your room now, if you're ready and all."

She nodded indifferently and followed the guy to the elevator for the fourth floor. The ascend up was silent for the most part, except for when he asked her what she was 'in' for. She merely held up her bandaged wrists in response, drawling an "ohh…" out of him in return.

He saluted her a goodbye once she was dropped off at her door. The guy was cute, but he also seemed a tad moronic; a bit too dorky for her tastes. Not to mention she had her thoughts set on her older therapist. She had always liked the older guys anyway, though usually not men that many years her senior. She didn't care, however. If she was going to be locked up in this place for a while, then she figured she might as well have some fun.

She knocked a few times and waited. Nothing, so she knocked again. Something. "Hold on, hold on, damn, I'm coming, geez."

Selina blushed lightly at her apparently abruptness, for it seemed that she was overly persistent with her knocking. The door was opened by a taller blonde girl with thick and wavy hair, blue eyes and a perfect body. She was beautiful, and normal looking. She looked to be a model, really.

"Hey, I'm new here...name's Selina," she spoke awkwardly, receiving a gaudy smile in response. The blonde stepped aside and chimed for her to "come on in."

Selina stepped inside the small room comprised of not much more than two twin beds on either side of the room, one large and barred window about four feet above Selina's head and a few dressers. Really, this dorm was waaay too small for two people. The Cat couldn't help but feel claustrophobic.

Her bubbly roomie plopped down onto her bed to the left side of the closet-like room. "Welcome to hell," greeted the blonde. "Name's Britney Plathex. In for falsely accused murder of some stoner that just-so-happened to be attending a party that I was at. S'pose I was in his fuckin' vicinity for awhile, people thought I had something going on with the man. Wanna know how he kicked the bucket that night? He was found behind a dumpster four blocks from my old apartment, his eyes cut out, clothes missing, and the hugest dildo ya've ever seen shoved deep up his ass. I think some gang members had some nasty beef with the fella myself, but the justice pigs looked into my records from school, and the trouble I've gotten into over the years, like late teens to early twenties, ya know. I'm twenty-four now, by the way, and I'll get into those deets later. So, they like, prosecute _me_, and I didn't do shit to the guy! Like I said, barely knew 'im. I don't even think I _fucked_ the guy, and yet, here I am in the slumly ward for the insane, which I am not, despite my 'diagnoses' of schizophrenia….and Bipolar, and DID, depression, seasonal affective disorder, then to top all that off, I'm the biggest sociopath you'll ever meet."

Selina stood a few feet away in befuddlement. That was quite a shitload to take in, and yet, Selina found this woman's blatant honesty to be astonishing. It had been awhile since knowing someone that blunt with their chronicles, that being the deceased Pamela Isley.

To add on to Selina's amazement, her new roommate snatched a Marlboro out from a box underneath her mattress and lit it up with a soft pink lighter. She puffed a large gush of smoke at the baffled Cat's face and smirked deviously, then tossing a smoke and the lighter her way.

"Your turn."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you Wilhelm Wigworthy for reviewing :) **

**And so the story escalates. Selina's journey in the world of insanity and paranoia begins, as well as a J Crane appearance coming up soon. In the meantime, I would like to hear your thoughts on the story as well.**


	4. Ch 4: Girl, Interrupted

**Chapter 4: Girl, Interrupted**

_Synopsis:_ Selina is introduced Gotham's very own Shutter Island with a grand tour of the place with her new roommate, who's a manic depressed 24-year-old with interests and tastes that practically define the Catwoman herself.

**x**

The cigarette fell to the ground before her, as did the lighter. The newcomer was astonished to say the least. She merely stared down at what she thought was too good to be true. Her insatiable craving for nicotine was extraordinarily powerful right about now, but it didn't overcome her curiosity.

"Where..._how_, did you get one of those?"

The blonde woman no more than three feet before her smirked tentatively and gave a sly shrug. "I know a guy, hon. He's been hooking me up with all my little wants 'n needs for the past eight months, since I met 'im."

She perched the small, white stick between her index finger and middle then brought it to her lips. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled a quick ring of smoke towards the woman in front of her. Selina was baffled that she had been stashing smokes under her bed for the past eight months. Maybe Arkham's security wasn't as top-notch as she initially presumed.

Selina had gone nearly twenty-four hours without the soothing intake of a mood-setting coffin nail. Another minute of deprivation and she'd go mad, though, she was already a _tad_ insane…

She collected the Marlboro from the floor and shakenly placed it between her full lips. She tersely lit up the small, light pink device and grinned relishingly to herself upon the smoky vapor that was brought into her lungs. Relaxation hit her for the first time in days. She fell back into her stiff twin bed adjacent to her roomie and crossed her legs. She was so caught up in her little fix that she had almost forgotten that she had a story to tell.

"_Ahem_."

Selina shot a look at her outlandish acquaintance who was giving her a wry smile and a gesturing wave of her arm, signalling her to declare her memoir. Her eyes averted downwards and she lost herself in deep muse. How would she begin? It was such an odd, and perhaps even pathetic anecdote.

She coughed improvisationally and even rubbed the nape of her neck in aversion to her situation. If only her reasoning for imprisonment was as engrossing a tale as Britney's.

She noticed the woman on the other side staring intently at her bandaged wrists. She quirked her eyebrows and nodded, as if to say, "_ahh, I see_."

"_Suicidal_, are we?" Britney's tone nearly denoted a hint of mock, like she was amused by her new roommate's perpetual sadness. "I know what ya did...but feel free to vent your life to me anyhow. I'm a great listener."

Selina's cheeks flourished a rosy tinge at her quick figuration. She shamefully hid her hands beneath her satin sheets and decided that it was time to break the ice. "So, um...you were told that I was coming, correct?"

Britney was now filing her long nails with laying down, her pillow fluffed to provide more upright support, and one leg rested over the other. "Selina Kyle. Beautiful name, I must say. Yep, told me just two hours ago, actually."

This statement had made Selina feel ashamed for some unidentifiable reason. She felt like she was intruding; barging into this woman's life suddenly and even rudely.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Britney. I feel as if I'm like, invading your personal space now, or something."

"No, no, really, it's cool, Sel. I was pretty lonely in here since the departure of my former roomie anyways...killed herself just last December."

And so the inevitable morbidity had settled in. Selina was really beginning to feel right at home here at the Arkham Asylum. She knew that things would only be getting darker as time went on. She would be seeing many cringe-worthy and unsettling things during her imprisonment.

Selina was a bit at loss for words. She said the only necessary thing to say at such a statement. "Jesus...I'm so sorry. How...how was she able to-"

"Hung herself on one of the willows outside. I dunno when she got out, or how, really. I think her aid was on break or whatever. Hmph, she was more miserable than myself, or even you, I'm sure." She blew another cloud of smoke into the air, then frowned and sighed "Jessie...just twenty-one, goddammit…"

Selina's smoke was currently settled between two tan, thin fingers and her light brown doe eyes were rested on the overwhelmingly white wall to the side. "Oh…"

"Yeah, enough of that." Britney waved a 'warning finger' at Kyle. "Don't you even _think_ about ending it all. Now, I gotta warn ya that this place does suck dick. Pssh, it's like bad head...they say there's no such thing...bullshit. You'll see what I mean when you meet the Director of our humble abode, Leland."

"She mean?"

Wheezy giggles followed. "Hell yeah, real bitch, sweetheart. I'd advise being a good girl, if you know what's good for ya." She let her dying cig fall to the cement floor then hacked into her shirt's short sleeve for around ten seconds. She glanced back up and met watery eyes with the Cat. "Hag's given me like 23 sentences of solitary confinement in my past two years here."

Selina smirked lightly, hoping some laughter in response wouldn't burst her new bunk buddy's bubble. "Whaddya do?"

"Oh man, I've done all kinds of shit, girl. I don't have enough fingers and toes to list the things I've done wrongly, so you'll just have tuh keep track on your own."

Selina nodded and prepared for quite the narration. She fervently waited in excitement as Britney coughed some more before starting. "Incident number one: July 13th, 2011: Patient Britney Plathex _starts_" she paused to scoff "a brawl with multiple inmates during her lunch hour. Reason for fight is unknown, for the patient refuses to give details on the occurrence. Altercation results in four broken noses, six black eyes, and three missing teeth, all from a total of five different female inmates. Patient Plathex is sentenced to two weeks in solitary confinement."

She drew another smoke from her pack and lit that up, while Selina sat upright on her twin mattress listening intently. "...Incident number two…"

* * *

Most of the accounts had turned out to be mere catfights with the different patients in the girl's section of the ward, or all of the times she'd attempted to escape the place. Selina was not alarmed to hear that the men and women of the institution were sectioned off from each other. No males got to see the females, and vice versa. It seemed only rational. God knew how many rapists were inhabiting this run-down madhouse.

Selina's eyes trailed around the compact living space while her pal yakked on about her misdeeds. She failed to find basic housing items that seemed essential for proper living standards. Sure, a mini fridge would have been nice, but this dorm didn't even have a clock mounted on the wall, and there were two small dressers, one for Britney and one for herself. No lamp was to be seen, just the ceiling light high above them surrounded by visible and thick cobwebs. Selina could assume that they didn't receive housekeeping services frequently. Yet, she couldn't help but value the fact that she was set for her nicotined urges and had a companion who almost resembled herself in a way. This was just what she needed. Both the smokes and sociopathic outcast could help her cope through this hell of a home. In the past two hours she had already been here, she already felt less suicidal. Perhaps this long-term experience wouldn't be too dilapidated after all.

"So, I think I should give ya a tour around the place. We've got like thirty minutes before our therapy session." Britney stood up, dropped her smoke and crushed it carelessly into the floor, like a true badass. Selina couldn't help but adore her antics so far.

"Um..._our_ therapy? I already saw this guy named Henry today...How many therapists do I see?"

Brief chortling was returned her way once a hand was placed on the doorknob. "Oh, well, actually it's group therapy, bebe. Ya see, all women here are required to take it. Our floor has sessions every Monday and Thursday at 11:15 a.m. We're in this room with like ten other chicks, and fuck, do some of them have issues. _More than **myself**, even_," she whispered. She opened the door and stepped to the side to provide leeway. "Our shrink's name is Gabrielle. We don't have to be all professional with her calling, which in my opinion makes her all the cooler."

Selina shrugged and followed her new accomplice out the door. Before doing so, she chucked her cancer stick over her shoulder without a damn given. The dinky room could burn up for all she cared. Maybe then they'd be able to get a larger one. Though, that was hardly probable.

They had twenty-five minutes to use up before their session, so they decided to spend this time exploring the areas they were allowed to, and _not_ allowed to go. Sociopaths, they were, shits, they did not give.

The halls were dimly lit and windows were not abundant. The place had a gloomy essence about it, each and every square inch, in fact. Wandering the halls were women of all ages, all dressed in the same dark orange, V-necked shirts and baggy sweatpants, some supervised by a tag-wearing aid fresh out of school, others alone. Selina felt on edge whenever the two would pass an insane woman mumbling to herself and rolling against the wall. Some walked crookedly and cackled for brief moments then went stoic in a matter of seconds. Some gave the two, particularly the newcomer, looks of filth as they passed by. This was her life now. These were the people she'd be faced with everyday for quite a while, if not the rest of her days. At this recurring realization, Selina again felt the urge to upchuck in spite of dread.

They got onto the elevator at the far end of the hall along with a cross-eyed woman with her right index finger shoved deeply up her right nostril. Selina now at least had an excuse to vomit. She knew she'd be seeing far more gruesome as time went on. The nose-picker was just the beginning.

"Shower's on the second floor. We do that every morning at 7:30. All of us go in at once too, kinda sucks. Then breakfast is at 8, then we do these 'activities' with our designated healers, per se. Y'know, art and crafts, painting, even some recess, can really make ya feel like a kid again. Lunch at noon...dinner at 6:30...bed...Hmph, kind of a joke, ain't it? A relentless cycle day in and day out." An arm was slung around Selina and a shaky chuckle sounded in her ear. "Now you understand why this is gonna be _hell_."

Selina had noticed that all the floors were fairly similar. Generic and plain looking, all of them, and she loathed it. There was nothing artsy about this building's decor, which made sense, considering what it was used for.

Britney continued to rant on about the asylum and its people, as well as herself. She was raised by her aunt in the exurbs just outside of Gotham. She had always been rebellious, that was for sure. She went to Kenter high school for a year and a half before getting expelled for possession of nearly 10 grams of cocaine as well as a 42 oz. bottle of vodka that almost obnoxiously poked out of her backpack. To top things off, she had faced her third offense by getting caught having intercourse the band room, it being with the actual band teacher. While she was booted from the district for good, he was both laid off and arrested for undergoing sexual activities with a minor, though she was kind of close to eighteen to begin with.

That was her lifestyle. Selina wasn't' so bad. Sure, she had stolen store merchandise and done some pot in her day, but she was never expelled. She just dropped out on her own, shortly after she'd turned sixteen in the tenth grade. At that point, her mother had just been diagnosed with the lung cancer. It started in her left lung, and spread wildly from there. Selina did what she could to help her out. She had to work her ass off to pay off the hospital bills and treatment that was doing little to help her in the first place. She'd considered her three years working at a rathole of a diner in the projects of Los Angeles to be an excessive waste of her late teens. She lost her beloved mother nevertheless.

Her mom had been her only family, until now. Figuratively speaking, she was now the younger sister to one large and dysfunctional family. Selina could figure that adapting to these crazies would be perhaps her most horrendous challenge yet. At least she found her new roomie to be alright.

"God, I've just been bitching my ass off. C'mon, Selina, tell me about yourself," pressed the blonde who stood at least four inches taller than her. She understood that talking of herself just as the other had been for the past hour may have been customary, but she really didn't want to think about her messy self right then. She was enjoying the distraction.

"Yeah, I don't think you're gonna want to hear about me. My life is, and always has been, terrible."

A scoff and a mumbled "bullshit!" hit her ears in return. "I had guessed that, considering your em, _little accident_." She pointed to her bandaged wrists and donned a taunting smirk while doing so. Selina blushed out of both shame and slight aggravation. She had just been pointedly accused of her deed. Yes, she had slit her wrists, but why did everyone want to talk about it? It seemed as if the patronization just wouldn't cease.

Selina shoved her hands down the large pockets on either pant leg and grimaced, refraining any eye contact until the subject would fluctuate. "Let's not talk about that, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Well, because it's depressing! I just couldn't take it anymore." Selina, now abashed, stared blankly at the pale and cracked wall to her right. "I just want to die."

"No, you don't. Think about what you're saying, hon."

"I transparently fathom what I'm sayin', thanks." She could not hold down at least a couple tsks while averting her view to the black speckled white polished flooring. "I'm not scared of dying, I'm scared of living like this; the constant pain."

A reassuring pat landed on her left shoulder as they stopped mid-hall. Britney was one to understand, for she was technically depressed herself, that having been just one of her many disorders. "Let's go 'n see Gabby."

* * *

Located on the fifth floor in Room 346 was the Group Therapy 'class' held for the ladies with screwy minds and tortured souls. The room itself was large and bare for the most part, except for an array of chairs in one large circle in the center of the room. The session was to begin in a matter of minutes, leaving Britney some extra time to gossip about the girls Selina would be hearing. She obscenely pointed out all the worst cases, the schizo's, the victim's of PTSD, the gals with multiple personalities; all the interesting ones, basically. The two sat down a few seats away from where their instructor would be. At this point, a handful of troubled women had made their way in, and either stood in a corner mumbling drabble under their breaths or they obediently and normally took a seat. The shrink had been a thirty-something brunette with a cheeky, white smile and lively persona. Her impression really gave-off the 'feel good' vibes.

"Hey, girls! How are we doing?"

Selina rolled her eyes at her giddy flamboyance. It made her look pretentious, to the overly judgemental eyes of Selina Kyle. Selina silently fretted when she noticed that the row of pearls and tilted eyes were on her suddenly. Had she been targetted already?

A hand was held out before her. "You must be our new patient. What is your name, again?"

"Selina," she groused while staring at the fancy rock that was wrapped around her ring finger. Envy settled within her upon seeing how many carats were on the pendant. Selina had then acknowledged that this woman was her complete opposite. Happy, wealthy, married, sweet, confident, and everything else that the Cat was not. Her hand was grabbed and shaken three times up and down before release.

"Nice to meet you, Selina. Welcome to our session. You're going to have soo much fun in here! We share our thoughts and experiences, good or bad, and then we all chip in a helpful suggestion for them to consider."

Selina returned a nod of indifferent understanding, then the woman was back in her own seat, her eyes now on all the fidgeting women at once. "So...who would like to start today?"

At first nothing but a round of sighs and leg-crossings, then a feeble hand was raised from the far end to the left. "Alright, Jeanie. Have at it."

A light cough erupted from the young woman with mousy brown hair and small green eyes, then a declaration of pure defeat. "Last night, I was unable to stop thinking about my ex boyfriend. I was like, literally up all night thinking about those haunting chestnut eyes and well-defined body...I remembered the night he broke up with me a year ago...how I swallowed up a whole bottle of sleeping pills when he did...then that trip to the hospital, then here. I have had plenty of time to think about my decision, to try and kill myself, y'know. Even now, I feel that I want him too bad to carry on, like before. I feel...trapped."

Some understanding nods were presented her way as well as a few coughs and light groans of boredom. Selina was actually intrigued by what the woman had to say, for she could relate entirely. She too, dearly missed her man who had cut her out of his life, just like that. He broke her heart, Bruce Wayne had. He just couldn't accept a trainwreck such as herself. She was a compulsive klepo as well as a liar. He was a good man, a good man with a lotta' cash. Yet, Selina loved the Batman not for his budget, but for who he was. She had fallen head over heels for the deep and husky tone he used while on duty, and his chipper and wisecracking statements while he was Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy. Not to mention he was quite handsome as well. Very much so, in fact. She lusted over the man intensely back then. She'd even hesitate to borrow money from him despite his grand earnings and the chance that whatever she wanted to buy would have almost no real financial cost to him in any way. Though, she still shoved those fifteen dollar necklaces that were from a rack at _JC Penney's_ down into her pockets or bra, or she'd drop a few mascaras into her purse when no one was looking. And after just two and a half months of dating him, he had caught her lashing out on a burglar with a whip of sorts at a bank heist back in '09, then he eventually found all of her clothes and makeup with no leftover receipt. He would have nothing of her after this.

The faintest of tears pooled around Selina's eyes at that reflection. She felt the urge to clap for the woman sitting across from her, and almost did so without a second thought, until the scoff of a lifetime roared from a woman sitting nearby her.

"Get ahold of yourself, Jean! What a pantsy! All this bitching over a_ man_?! You need to man-up! H. Christ, trying to kill yourself all 'cause some fuck didn't like your pussy? Pathetic."

Wide eyes from all around the room were set on the brute of a woman with a deep voice and rude approach. Such a beast, this one was. A presumable six feet of height and a dark and murky skin tone with quite the display of scars engraved all throughout would send chills down the Batman's spine himself. A scowl crossed the speaker's prior innocent face and she stood from her seat, fists clenched and posture straightened elaborately.

"What right do you have to judge me, Stella? I think you need to up your dosage of sympathy!"

The silent observers remained hushed as the large woman rose from her seat with a creak to follow, then marched after the defiant victim of a broken heart. "You silly, J. All wound up over some dolt. Hell, maybe you _should have_ taken your life, while ya had the chance-"

"Fuck off! At least I'm not a _dyke_ like yourself!"

After another very brief round of pure quiet, a thud sounded along with the knocking over of two chairs. The larger woman was atop the smaller speaker, masculine hands gripped around her slender neck and vicious thrashing followed. The circle could only stare in shock as the Sasquatch pounded away at the feeble girl beneath. As the shock value began to settle in, the teach had it in her to stand and sprint out of the room, to likely get security.

The women did nothing to intercede the quarrel. "Ah, I love a good fight," chimed Britney, actually sporting a small grin, appearing to be entertained by the onslaught. Selina was quite taken aback to have already been in the face of danger.

"Does this happen frequently?" Selina whispered timidly in her friend's ear.

"Ho yes. You're in for about three fights a week, _at least_."

Selina felt chills run down her spine at the thought of her being victimized. She would have to stay far away from this beastly woman who looked to be in her late twenties. Two tall men somewhere in their twenties rushed in with Gabrielle, holding a shot with a long and frighteningly thick needle. The two worked together to pull the creature off of the bruising woman and inject her in the arm with the incisive sedative. A protesting growl ensued before a loud collapse to the carpeted floor. Sobbing could be heard even when the young woman was on a gurney halfway down the hall.

This woman, Stella, had to be dragged out of the room by the two guards. One of them, the younger looking one with deep blue eyes and brunet hair shot a smile and wink Britney's way, and she giggled in response. "My boyfriend," she whispered to Selina, who returned a startled look. "I'll explain later," she added quickly before the door was closed by Gabrielle, who was now immensely red in the face and audibly panting. Trembling fingers combed through sweaty brown wisps and a quiet "_M__y god_" was sighed. She drew her gaze back at the nine remaining women and straightened her stance. "...Anyone else? We have-" she glanced upwards at the barred clock resting high on the wall, "Eleven minutes."

All that could be heard in return was light breathing and a few stomach rumblings. "I think we're done for today, then."

* * *

"Who is she?" Selina asked the tall blonde beside her. They were now in line at the cafeteria, bare trays in their hands and the scent of meatloaf filling their airways.

"The black chick? Stella Kopper, aka, biggest butch in the world. Puts on quite a show, don't she?" The line was moving gradually today, and debating could be heard from further up the line. Meatloaf seemed to be the only thing on the menu today, and the girls weren't liking it.

"What's she in for?" The Cat was almost afraid to inquire. A chuckle was tossed back her way along with a shaking head. "Alleged murder and gangrape of 22-year old Desiree Phelps. She's here along with her two sisters, Keke and Tamya. They've been here for nearly six years now."

Selina felt her heart plummet at that news. "Shit, you mean there's _two_ more of her?!"

More laughing carried on. Britney seemed to be pretty unfazed in character. "Don't worry, Lina, one's half her size and the other is, er, my height, but they're not nearly as brutal as their big sis is. Though, they do tend to follow after their sissy's ways. She's like, their leader, ya know? The ruler of the roost, I'd say."

She nodded comprehensively, but remained unnerved. "So, why aren't they on constant lockdown? She almost _killed_ that poor woman back in therapy!"

"Pssh, I dunno. Probably would be the wisest thing to do now, wouldn't it?" They were now further up the line that had been dragging on for the past seven minutes. Selina didn't care for meatloaf, or really much meat at all aside from small portions of chicken or turkey here and there. She hadn't had a full meal in days, however, so she knew that she was have to save her pickiness for another time.

She reluctantly held her tray towards a burly woman looking to be in her fifties with stringy grayish brown hairs sticking out of her hairnet and an incredibly hardened expression. She scooped a small pile of gruel onto her plate and waved her arm to gesture her to move along. At the end of the line was a small salad bar, with no salad, but carrot sticks and some boiled broccoli along with a bin of bruised apples. The food here seemed worse than what they serve in soup kitchens.

She filled the other half of her tray up with baby carrots then followed Britney over to a clear table at the far end of the room. Selina picked away at her lump of mystery meat while Britney vented on about how she met Tyler Davis, Arkham's new twenty-seven year old security guard.

"He started workin' here like nine months ago, I think. I saw him standing in the corner with his partner when all of us lady inmates were making our way down to the 'Inspection Room' for our monthly cavity search, and-"

"WHAT?! Wh-what do ya mean _cavity search_?"

Selina felt goosebumps spring up on her arms as the blonde explained that everyone is required to undergo a thorough and buck-naked inspection on the 20th of every month. Inmate procedure. It was established. When she noticed how pale the normally tan woman went at that news, she assured her that "It doesn't hurt or take too long, and a hot guy does it".

While she was still disquieted, Britney decided to continue on. "I saw him smoking while on duty. His rebellion made me pretty wet, too. I cut out of our 'single line' for a moment so I could brush my ass against him, snatch his smoke, and tell him to meet me in the boiler room that night at 9:30. I didn't wait for his obligation, I skipped on ahead and got back in line." A sly smirk played along her mouth and a throaty chuckle broke out past her lips. "Got tackled by fifteen women when they saw me with the cig, plenty of smokers here, ya know. Spent the next four weeks in the infirmary with a dislocated arm, shoulder, two broken fingers and bruises everywhere. The man visited me every night till I got out. We passionately fucked away without a stitch on in the lobby that night. Been getting together every so often since then."

Jealously rang through the petite woman's body. It had been just over three years since she'd last had sex, that being with her beloved Brucie. Since her breakup with him, she went asexual and hung around her late friend Pamela Isley. Pamela was promiscuous, and very much so. She had her share of one-night stands and flings, without a single care given. Selina had always preferred relationships and attachment of strings. She thought the one she had with Bruce was going exceptionally, until he disowned her for her criminal enactments. Since then she had felt so lost.

"Think you can hook me up with his buddy?" Selina asked, totally ready to start 'dating' again. It was time to move on, she figured. That other one she saw wasn't bad looking, and he would make for a decent run-to man for all of Selina's long-unrequited sexual urges. However, Selina didn't receive the answer she had wanted.

"Oh, thing is, Francis is gay."

Selina nearly snorted out her sip of 2% milk. How unfortunately ironic. "You sure?"

"Eyup. A few months back I was gonna propose a threesome night with Tyler, wanting to include his partner, but I saw the man having an intense make-out session with one of the male inmates. Some Mexican...But maybe he's bi."

Selina dismissed him as a potential boyfriend. There was always someone else. "Nah, it's cool. I have this therapist named Dr. Frederick. He's a little _older_, but he's still pretty hot. I'm gonna see if I can get anywhere with him."

Britney laughed. "I doubt it, honey. Therapists are awful professional, single or not. You so much as peck him on the cheek you'll be faced with a restraining order."

"Have you had him?"

"Nope. Had I, then I'd've fucked him a _loong_ time ago, and right now I'd be tellin' you how it was."

"...Still, a girl's gotta try."

With that, Selina knew that the following Wednesday would be the day she'd try to get her sex life back, even if it was with her shrink.


	5. Ch 5: Lose Yourself

**Chapter 5: Lose Yourself**

It had been around sixteen years since Selina had last finger painted. The blending of various acrylics on one large sheet of paper perched on a tall, wooden easel in front of the feeble woman really brought back old and long-lost memories. All she had been using in the last fifteen minutes were darker hues, particularly black and touches of gray. She was doing her best to smear out a sloppy portrayal of her old flame, Bruce Wayne, but in his legendary mask over that flawless, handsome, pretty-boy face.

Then again, perhaps painting her ex wasn't the best idea, for it only brought up those old and dismal memories, intensifying her perpetual thirst for gratification. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks once she was completed. The replica of his mask was not portrayed too well, and she reckoned a fifth grader could paint better than what she came up with, but it looked accurate enough to make her reminisce in sorrow.

She had to take her view elsewhere after a minute of gawking at her artwork that resembled the man whom she could never have. She thanked her rare lucky stars that her artistic skills weren't any more enhanced than what they currently were, for her eyes would have really worked the waters then. Beside her, Britney was humming delightfully to herself, sloppily flinging random colors all over her sheet, then topping off her splayed collage by writing "FUCKIN' PERFECT" in bold lettering with black paint. Selina admired her friend's ability to express herself carelessly. She yearned to experience her non-prevalent shame and bold attitude. She didn't find anything about her to be 'crazy' or 'mentally ill'. She was just a lively woman, really.

Britney nodded triumphantly at her work, dropped her paint-covered brush into the water cup used for rinsing, which she never used considering the single, fused mess of hues spread all over the large sheet, then she gifted her new roommate beside her with a proud, beaming smile.

"It's a _Pink_ song. She's a major inspiration of mine." She eyed-over Selina's work briefly and gave her a thumbs-up before continuing. "I can relate to the woman in soo many ways, I can't even name alla' 'em. She once said that she is a "reformed slut", and one day, I kinda hope to become one as well."

"Hm, you're not reformed?" Selina giggled, already knowing the answer to that very well, though she'd only known her for three hours.

"Of course not, but I _am_ a slut."

Selina laughed complimentarily in return. "...The Batman?" You like 'im?"

Selina felt her face heat up at the mention of her ex. Eidetic memories of his excessively attractive body ran a brief course through her mind. "...Well, yeah. I kinda do."

An accusatory snigger lingered back her way. "Fangirl."

* * *

Dinner that night was not much tastier than what was served for lunch that day. Hard and thick hamburgers with nearly expired buns were served fit for not even a homeless person. Selina was so disappointed with that night's menu that she decided to resort back to her old habit of fasting, which she did constantly in her teens. She took the lightest sips of her low-fat chocolate milk (that was also just a few days from going rotten) while her blonde buddy with a tall, lithe body and the perfect tits chattered her ear off about her upsetting, white-trash childhood growing up in a mobile home with her aunt, Deedee. She had learned that her blatant persona comes from the one who raised her from ages three to nineteen. Her dad was in jail for armed robbery, assault and battery and even suspicion of murder. He may have been in for life, not that that really mattered, though, for he was negligent towards his daughter and her mom anyways. Selina was beginning to feel increasingly connected to her roommate by the hour; they related to one another in so many ways. The recklessness, pessimism, abusive fathers, clinical blues, lack of a high school diploma, and the raunchy spirits.

Britney's mom was an alcoholic who had a chronic addiction to crack cocaine. She too, once her daughter had turned three, was arrested in a penitentiary not far from her father's. She was then taken into care by her doting and kind, yet redneck aunt. Being her mom's sister, she too had taken on a few unhealthy habits as well, though nothing as hazardous as godforsaken crack and the neverending six packs of _Blue Moon_. Rather, a decent stock of marijuana that occupied the entirety of the main closet under fluorescent lights, and many, many cigarettes throughout the years.

"Let's play a game, Lina. I wanna see who did what first...you know, at the youngest age."

Selina smirked playfully and bargained "What's the winner get?"

Britney leant upright from her slouched position and crossed her arms coolly. "Dignity."

The newcomer nodded and shrugged in response. At this point, she felt that she could be open with her on just about anything.

"How old were ya when you started smoking?" Britney immediately blurted "Twelve!" in response to her own inquiry.

"Awe...fourteen, in a bathroom at a 7-11. I had a friend who'd been doing it for quite some time, I guess. I decided to try it out...just to be cool, really. I loved being rebellious."

"HA! Me too! Shit, I was such a hoe in my teens. So, when'dya swipe your V-card?"

Silence that followed allowed Selina to put forth her reply first. "Fifteen. God, it was horrible. He was rough with me, too. I don't think I knew him very well. I think his name was Marcus or something like that. I know it happened in the back of his van somewhere in downtown Compton. He was like five or six years older than me."

Selina was stricken with obfuscation at just how much she could reveal about her own past. She'd just kept on talking, even when she didn't need to.

"Fourteen and a half, bebe. Happened in a Porta-John at the county fair, God knows where. We really are alike," Britney confirmed proudly.

Her next collection of ponderings all seemed to affiliate with their pasts, and what they had and hadn't done, (just kidding, they'd done _everything_) and at what age they had committed to those things. Britney 'won', obviously. She was born to be wild, so she had been from the start.

As for Selina, she actually had to grow into it; find her path, her road, if you will. She had taken many wrong routes and travelled deep down the paths of inevitable peril. While in her teens she may have just been a frequent cutter of class and ultimately school altogether, she, in her early adulthood, had been taught the laws of theft, as well as criminality. She had been provoked, inspired and persuaded by the currently deceased Pamela Isley, who often went by her undercover calling, 'Poison Ivy'. She had been around nineteen when she met her at a slum of a nightclub. Pamela had been engaged in many illegal acts, then being under FBI search and look-out. Selina, with her sly personality and even ambition to get what she wanted, helped the tall, redheaded woman rob a bank. They had made it out, simply, in fact. Selina had been complimented on how swift her escape was, reminding Pam of a feline with her agility and concise movement. She had been recommended the calling of 'Catwoman' and here we are now.

Selina had always felt a great amount of respect for her alter ego. Catwoman was brave, agile, witty, and seductive. Against any sane person's better judgement, she saw herself as none of those. She felt that her and her inner conscious were almost two different beings. She did not hear voices, ever, or see hallucinations. She could be the Kitty Lady whenever and however she wanted to. Except now, while trapped in a mental institution rampant with security armed with sedatives and straight-jackets. She knew this suffocating house of the mad would only make her weaker while in captivity. On a brighter note, she finally made a new friend after four years of living the loner's life.

Selina was not too ashamed to have lost that particular bet, due to its nature. She was thankful that she was not the biggest whore around, or the most rebellious. The notion had made her feel more whole; worthy of society, perhaps. Even clean.

She rested her head in her right hand and closed her eyes. This had been a long day full of many new experiences, and she was definitely ready for bed. Britney noticed that Selina had taken just a couple bites of her burger, and left all of her fries untouched.

"Hey, you gonna eat that?"

…

Selina was up past midnight listening to her new pal chat away. She didn't even really know what about; just random matters, really. She was adoring Britney and her little antics more and more as the hours ticked away, but she had to admit that she could be somewhat of a nuisance. With her never ending motor-mouth specifically. She could use a little silence at this point, yet she didn't want to offend this woman. The last thing she needed was the end of another friendship.

* * *

The Cat had been shaken awake from a dead sleep that following morning. She groaned and turned from her position facing the wall. She rubbed her eyes before opening them to be surrounded by a stinging blur of light.

"What time is it?" Selina sighed, still fatigued greatly.

"It's seven. Our room's are buzzed when it's time for us to get our asses up."

She turned her back on her to gather fresh clothing from her dresser along with a towel and other toiletries. Selina leant upright and drew her dry and hazy eyes to her own dresser. She groggily brought herself to her feet then pondered whether or not her drawers were filled with fresh clothing. The top drawer had neatly folded stacks of deep orange shirts and the second contained the sweatpants.

Britney tossed a white towel her way along with a small bar of soap wrapped up in plastic — luckily unopened, much to Selina's preference. She was also handed a medium sized container of shampoo, and no conditioner, which was not good for her case, considering her thick curls that needed nourishment and _plenty_ of it just to keep them from frizzing.

Selina scornfully studied her shower materials. "What the hell is this? No _Pantene_? _Paul Mitchell_?_ Herbal Essences_? God, this isn't even _Dove_, is this?"

Britney chuckled whimsically in response. "Hmph, nah, girl. This is a poorly funded nuthouse. Of course we get shit-products here."

Selina then noted the absence of a razor. "And...what out a razor? How are we supposed to shave?"

A vociferous deadpan ensued. "We, eh, don't." She then stared down at Selina's wrists and smirked to really imply her message. "In your case, it's probably for the better."

Selina heaved a protesting groan, but knew that she was right. She would just have to make do with her disconcerting stubble that irked the hell out of her and made her feel like a human cactus.

The valiant blonde strutted the few steps necessary over to the door and swung it open with verocity. "To the showers, Leen."

With another sigh of dejectment, she sluggishly followed her roomie out the door and down the hall towards the elevator. In there with them were four other women, two normal and two blubbering loons. Selina frowned upon the thought of being around these mentally ill-mates any longer than a few months, and due to her circumstances she would probably be spending more than a ninety days here. No, she had months, maybe _years_ to get to know these girls, and she was dreading it.

A parade of women were filing into the single doorway one by one. Selina had presumed that they'd all be getting their own personal shower stalls, but the only thing they had gotten to themselves were the lockers that faced the entrance, quite the hoard of them, all in rows of five. To the right upon entering was one large shower area, and no stalls besides the walled toilet area. Selina felt panic stream through her.

"Um...wait, so, we all shower...together?"

Britney opened up her locker and replied her usual chortle of bemusement. "You bet, Selly. Like I said, we're not rich, therefore, we can't all have our own special treatment, y'know?"

Selina was still pale-faced at the discovery. The thought of showering with one large crowd of people had always given her the willies, for inexplicable reasons. She'd've rather bathed _alone_, thanks, in her own little area in private, and then redressed by the lockers in her own little corner as well. Despite her suicidal tendencies, she still had a little shame.

"Eh...I think I'm just gonna wait until the group clears up a little…" Selina mumbled to her friend, who was by now completely stark. Selina looked over to face Britney, and was taken aback at how quickly she had stripped. Selina couldn't help but feel jealous for her beauty. She had the best breasts a girl could have, at least two cups larger than Selina's. She also envied her ideally proportioned buttox and long, slender legs. She blushed when she realized she had been staring like a horny pervert. Britney merely laughed and blew off whatever her overly-cautious acquaintance was feeling abashed over.

"You better not. We only get twenty-five minutes in here, hon. No point in waiting, and it's really not too bad anyways." She smiled valiantly and looked past her shorter friend's shoulder, towards the batch of naked breast and vagina-clad crazies. She then turned her gaze back onto Selina and said_ "Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted, one moment, would you capture it? Or just let it slip?"_

She sashayed past her after really slamming her locker with unnecessary force, gaining the attention of the entirety of the shower room. "Yo!" she hollered once under the watering jets.

"Her palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. There's vomit on her sweater already; mom's spaghetti, she's nervous, but on the surface she looks calm and ready to drop bombs, but she keeps on forgetting what she wrote down-"

The other women chipped in "The whole crowd goes so loud. She opens her mouth, but the words won't come out. She'd choking, how? Everyone is joking now, the clock runs out, times up, over, _BLAOH_! Snap back to reality oh, there goes gravity, oh, there goes rabbit, she choked, she's so mad, but she won't give up that easily, no, she won't have it, she knows, her whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter she's dope, she knows that, but she's broke, she's so stagnant, she knows when she goes back to her mobile home that's when it's back to the lab again, yo, this whole rhapsody better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass her. You better-"

Selina smirked in recognition. Yes, she was an avid listener of the Hip Hop artist, and _Lose Yourself_ just so happened to be one of her favorites from him. They were on a roll with the lyrics, only making petty alters to the _he's_, changing them to _she's_.

It wasn't necessarily the scene of thirty women, more or less, busting moves and flailing their arms around while scrubbing away at their bodies with cheap soap and flopping tits that inspired Selina to join the others in the shower; it was the merry spirit of it all. Just the way they turned this awkward and usually uncomfortable situation into something more exciting. It was nice to see that they could all blissfully croon out one of _Eminem's_ hits like a bunch of inebriated bimbos. Frankly, the view was enticing.

She shyly removed her generic uniform as well as her own undergarments, that she'd have to get washed fairly soon. At least she had brought a fresh pair of tighty whities from her bottom drawer, considering the visible cleanliness of them, yet she still didn't trust those worn-looking and slightly stained bras that laid in her third drawer down. Then she removed her bandages from her wrists, eyeing over her recent marks that were still noticeable enough to draw attention. At least she wasn't the only suicidal woman here. She'd already seen a least twenty other girls with marred wrists and arms. She was far from alone.

Now bare and vulnerable all over, she steadily strayed over towards the party of gleeful inmates. She kept her distance while underneath her own showerhead that sprayed lukewarm water down on her. She had to cherish this feeling more than any other girl in here, for it had been nearly five whole days since her last cleansing session. She almost viciously scrubbed her small bar of soap all over herself—legs, arms, underarms, chest, stomach, backside, and anywhere else that needed a thorough cleansing. Selina peered over at the women jumping around like fools and singing triumphantly while allowing plenty of soap bars to fall to the ground without a care. Selina decided to not partake in any of that for now. It wasn't like she really knew any of them aside from Britney, who was leading the chorus, just as she had commenced it. What really bothered the Cat was the fact that her tube of shampoo wasn't even labeled, minus a potentially misleading inscription of 'Medical Shampoo'. The issue was, Selina's hair was naturally curly, and needed specific brands for treatment, as her former hair stylists had always told her. On top of that, it needed to be conditioned, with a considerable amount of conditioner. Selina's favorite brands had always been _Pantene_ and _Paul Mitchell_, for her hair, since they had shown promising results after each usage over the years. But now that she was deprived both company brand shampoo and conditioner of any kind, she was at risk of snarly, unkempt and fuzzy tresses. That would be quite a downfall on her part, since her hair had been one of the few traits she actually enjoyed about herself.

She sighed again just as she had done countless times earlier in the fifteen minutes she had been up and about, and squirted a pool of soap into her palm, then began to massage it into her thick locks. It hardly sudsed up, to her fear, and it lacked even the faintest scent. Not even a trace of vanilla could be smelt in this lousy product. Selina had stepped out from under the stream before anyone else really had, for they were all taking their swell time belting out popular song lyrics. She could say that Britney had certainly been the best vocalist amongst the other amateurs. She assumed that her animated personality just resulted in charming vocals as well, and that seemed to make sense. In all actuality, Selina could sing talentedly as well, though she had yet to admit to she had a defiant streak delved deep into her heart, she could also be outwardly mellow. She blamed her depression for this, and she felt that it was holding her back from living a satisfactory life. Whenever these thoughts swam around in that cluttered mind of hers, she couldn't help but crave a few antidepressants, to soak up that pain and make her feel content, even if she was alone.

It felt good to dress in fresh clothing after a much needed shower. She despised everything about the required outfit, the color, the look and the mere fact that it was exactly what all of the other women wore. In layman's terminology, it was just pathetic. Yet, she knew she would have to force herself to adjust to them, as well as life in this prison disguised as rehab.

Britney, now sopping wet and pridefully nude, skipped over to the clothed Cat while reciting the final bits of _8 Mile's_ award winning single. She wrapped a towel around her supple frame then slung an arm over her friend's shoulder and assured "You can do anything you set your mind to, girl."

…

The remainder of that day was ordinary and altogether boring. Just more 'activities' and discussions of their home's gals with mental issues. Britney was quite the gossip, Selina had noticed. She willingly spoke on about everything and anyone. She only feared the time to come when she would speak badly of her behind her back. Judging her nonchalance regarding other's feelings, she knew this was bound to happen.

At least they wouldn't criticize her, too badly anyway. They were all technically unstable 'up there', so what right would they have to laugh at her suicidal inflictions? None. They could only chastise themselves.

While that Tuesday was uneventful for the most part, Selina knew that her Wednesday would be a little more interesting. A certain middle-aged therapist would be in for something really special that morning at 9:40, and he'd be in for some action he hadn't experienced in at least fifteen years.

* * *

"Let's revisit that discussion on your father. I've looked over my notes from our first meeting, and I speculate that he may have been the one to provoke your depression."

His office was stuffy and the air was thin. Selina was feeling edgy for her upcoming enactment. Would she really pull this off? How would he react?

"I do not want to discuss that old asshole right now," Selina admonished, rolling her eyes in a purely stultifying manner. He coughed lightly to clear up the tense factors already brewing. They weren't even three minutes in session yet and she was already giving him trouble. The peskier patients were always more difficult to cope with, after all.

He folded his hands over her folder and briefly contemplated what to suggest. "That's fine, Selina. We can always hold off on that. Now, I think we should go over your medication that you will need to take. The order should be in by tomorrow morning, so we can get them into your system as soon as possible."

"Whoa, now, you think I'm gonna pop your little drugs just so I can 'feel better'? I'm not taking shit, Frederick. You can forget it."

Furrowed eyebrows returned her way, then a constructive argument. "Selina, they are mere antidepressants. Thousands of people out there take them, and they do nothing to hinder your behavior or personality. They are made to reconstruct the chemical activity in your brain so your depression can alleviate and your thoughts of suicide can dimin-"

"I said no. If you think those things are going into my body, then they'll have to be _forced_ down my throat." Selina gave him a hard stare to indicate her seriousness. He wrote a few things down after her declaration.

"I'm hoping it doesn't have to come to that…"

Selina scoffed and crossed her arms. So far, it was challenging to feel anything towards this man. He was so professional and dull in complexion. It was no wonder he was single. He probably hadn't had a woman in _years_. At that consideration, Selina smirked schemingly to herself. She stood from her seat in front of him while he was writing down the last of his notes. She was going to pique some entertainment here in the seconds to come, and if she succeeded in intriguing the older doc in return, then therapy would be something she always looked forward to.

"You know…" She swayed around his desk, her hands resting on her slim yet full hips, and her gaze extremely suggestive. He looked up quizzically at her and halted his scribbling in the middle of his sentence. Before he had the chance to react, she was on his lap, legs spread apart and her position close to a straddle. His green eyes went wide and his face had tinged a deep red color from his prior ivory cheeks. "I can guess that you must get bored cooped up in this little office all day long, with nothing to do but jot down insane people's drabble and bullshit that they have to bitch about. I don't care if you tell me otherwise, Dr. Freddy, 'cause I know you hate what you do." She grabbed his hand and yanked his pen from his grasp, allowing it to clink to the desktop. She then scanned his fingers purposefully to initiate her upcoming point. "I see you're not married...I can assume that you're _alone_…"

"Selina-"

"Don't retaliate, babe. I know you're feigning for a woman's touch." She leaned in and planted a light kiss on his scruffy cheek. She continued her gesture on his other cheek with light stubble that only added on to his sex appeal before he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back, but not enough to knock her off of his lap.

"This is completely inappropriate!"

"I know," she cooed, then acted quickly, pressing her lips to his. "Makes it more fun in way. Introduces a little _mutiny_ in your life. Some enticement, even." She ran her lips along his, that would not budge. He firmly compressed them despite her tongue that was running along them, trying to get in. She adjusted herself more properly and ran fingers into his brunet hair than was sprinkled with strands of peppery-gray. She felt a large hand snake around her upper back, then yank the back of her shirt with swift precision.

"I could lose my job. Get off."

She had seen his more spiteful side with that tone. Of course, he didn't _really_ care for his patients, he just needed his income. That should have been obvious from the start.

"Who's gonna know? You think I'm gonna brag about this, Henry? Please, like I'd _gossip_ about sex with you! But...I guess if you really want to play by the rules...be a good man and do as _mommy_ says...then I'll go ahead and-"

He cut her off by reeling her in and crashing his sexually deprived mouth into hers. She shakily fumbled around in his lap before he wrapped his arms around the small of her back and steadied the troubled woman onto his lap. He had taken her into his arms fully and contributed his jaw, lips and tongue to her. Light groans erupted from his throat as they made out. She gently rocked herself into him, eventually feeling a certain hardness in turn. After a couple more minutes of passionate lip-thrashing and prying at one another's cheeks and shoulders, he lifted her up and roughly shoved her onto his desk, then leaned over her. He gripped her waist and got in-between her legs while still fully clothed, though the removal of clothing would be coming up shortly. Her cheeks flushed at the quick escalation of things, and she almost felt iffy about going all the way with him so soon, albeit his contrary beliefs. He represented his carnal urges by grinding himself into her middle while giving her neck hard kisses. She panted both nervously and pleasurably and he ran his rough hands up her back and was just a few seconds away from ripping apart the bindings of her bra.

His lips were on hers again when the door was thrown open.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Henry, but we've got a code red on the western section on-"

He hadn't acknowledged his bosses presence for the whole of ten seconds. He removed his lips from his patient's with a light trail of saliva then gazed up horrifically at the stunned Director. Once all realization had struck he removed himself from his position on the woman he was about to screw against his desk and awkwardly adjusted his glasses up the bridge of his nose then straightened his tie, while Selina kept her place on his desk.

The woman at the door blinked in amazement to rid her trance and gave her top therapist a very addled facade. She took a few steps back out into the hall while keeping her glare on the blushing man who'd just been caught in the act. His worst fear had just come true.

"J-Joan, I - I can explain-"

"I'll be seeing you in my office, Henry." She then cleared her throat and gave him a nasty scowl of disapprovement. "I'll let you two finish up." She then closed the door and footsteps became distant.

The room grew silent. Selina was feeling almost as uncomfortable as him. "Um...wanna talk about my dad?"

* * *

Joan Leland's office was never a comfort zone for staff nor patients. After the former Director, Dr. Jonathan Crane, was divested of his position for going against just about every one of their policies with his nifty fear toxin and its illegal use on patients and the general public alike, the psychopharmacologist from the upstate Preston Mental Institution had been chosen to take his place. She was in her forties with an unflattering pixie cut, peppery hair, hard blue eyes and an attitude from the pits of hell. In other words, she was an authoritarian bitch. She was in charge of the patients' placement and care. She was the one who sentenced solitary confinement if needed, and she was the one to assign a patient to a therapist. She rarely considered her doctor's thoughts or concerns regarding the facility, and did things to her own accord, which was usually done with austere measures, similar to her predecessor, actually. Really, Arkham hadn't seen a decent Head since the running of Elizabeth Arkham herself decades ago. Now, it seemed as if only the corrupt had authority to be in charge of the substandard home for the mad.

The woman in charge marched around her office with her arms crossed around her back while censuring the man who had damn nearly gotten into an _inmate's_ sweatpants. This was beyond serious. He sat stupefied in his seat before his bosses desk, his thoughts consumed with remorse and anticipation for what was to come. He knew this little act had been the conclusion of his career, and it was too soon for retirement. He was only fifty-two.

"I must admit, I am astounded that you would be one to _sleep_ with your patients, Henry. You seemed like such an honest, humble man. Been working here, how long, the past twenty-three years? My, what a way to end all of that hard work…"

"Please, Joan, she - she came on to me! They do that sometimes, a-and I hadn't the chance to contact security-"

"Hush, Henry. Don't think me an idiot! I suppose that all these years of promiscuous female patients just throwing themselves at you finally made something click within you. You just couldn't refrain, could you?"

"Joan-"

"No, the deed is done. You've made your choice, and now you are going to pay the fee. You've made yourself a terrible example for others, and I cannot allow you to continue your work here."

"God, please, Joan! I_ assure_ you that it will not happen again!"

"You are dismissed, Mr. Frederick."

Without further ado, he stood and trudged out of his former employer's office. Meanwhile, the Head took her seat at her desk and went through their newcomer's file. There didn't seem to be anything particularly unique about the girl, just another depressed woman who'd tried to end her life at twenty-five years. She'd need a new therapist, but that would take a couple days to get her acquainted with a good one. According to the woman's behavior, she'd have to be added onto Joan's list of patient's who needed to be _watched closely_. She decided that it'd be best to meet this woman as well, maybe first-handedly prepare her next therapist for what he'd be dealing with. Along with that, she wanted to see if there was something more awry going on in this woman's chemistry aside from the suggested depression, for that seemed to be likely.

* * *

_A/N:_ On a side note, I'll verify that _very_ much conditioner is needed for curly hair, for I have it myself..te he

Thank you for reading. Review? I'd like to know how this is going.

(I may be moving this story to my other account, though it's not official for the time being.)


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